


Guardian Angel

by Shatterpath



Category: Birds of Prey (TV), CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, CSI: Miami
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-09
Updated: 2010-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-25 20:25:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sara finds herself working with Helena and her metahuman powers. This should be interesting...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guardian Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Crackfic prompt from the marvelous Geekgrrllurking. _Sara (CSI) and Helena (Birds of Prey, TV) are camping and come across a lost Natalia (CSI:Miami). Who ends up sharing a sleeping bag?_
> 
> This is one of the funner ones, combining this odd trio. I feel the ending could have been stronger, but it works okay.

"Really, Huntress," I groan for what feels like the hundredth time, "you're not helping."

Snorting inelegantly, my companion pauses with her body perched elegantly on the tree limb above me. She's like a cat, or maybe some sort of lanky monkey, inhumanly dexterous and tireless. By comparison, I feel awkward and wussy. As a scientist, the metahumans are a difficult enough concept to accept, but to add insult to injury, this one is wearing me down.

In more ways than one.

Exhausted, I drop my backpack and yank out the water bottle, grateful for the moisture despite the ambient heat it has absorbed. Crouched on the balls of her feet, balanced effortlessly on the sketchy safety of a branch no thicker than her slender arm, Helena continues to scan our overgrown surroundings. We've been partners now for several months, ever since Catherine met Oracle and persuaded her and her vigilante team to come into the light and work for the police directly. In deference to their restless spirits and superpowers, I agreed to become a mobile law enforcement unit, as Warrick did with Dinah. So far I've seen twenty-three U.S. cities in less than three months.

But it's been worth it for the eighteen retrieved missing persons and the fourteen perps now behind bars. We've worked with everyone from the reddest of redneck small-town cops to the FBI and Secret Service. The adventure has been fun, but I need a break.

"Sidle," Helena suddenly hisses, slithering down beside me, "there's someone close by."

All thoughts of exhaustion are gone as adrenaline blasts through my body. Before even consciously registered her words, I've rolled into a crouch, gun drawn, my pack and water bottle forgotten.

Now, 'close by' usually means something different to the cat-like Huntress, but I trust her skills implicitly and follow her lead.

Imagine our mutual shock to find a filthy, frightened but strangely calm woman skulking through the bush. We're miles and miles deep into the Florida Everglades and she is the last thing we expect. Stifling a strangled shriek, the woman gropes at the empty holster at her belt and my eyes widen at the muddy police badge beside it. Gesturing for her silence, I only half lower my gun to grope into my pocket and hand over my own ID. With shaking hands, the woman looks it over before warily scooting closer.

"He's," she tries to whisper, but her voice cracks dramatically. Swallowing back her visible fear and exhaustion, she tries again. "He's been hunting me for almost two days. Lured me away from a crime scene outside Miami."

A half-full bottle of Dasani and a granola bar packet appears in Helena's hand. "What's your name?" she asks bluntly, barely loud enough to hear, as the woman gratefully takes what's offered.

"Natalia BoaVista, Miami-Dade crime lab."

"Pleased ta meetcha, Nat," Helena grins ferally. "If you have no objections, we're going to go turn the tables on your hunter." With obvious relief, she waves us off. "Come on, Sar."

"Hunker down and stay silent," I murmur to Boa Vista, pressing her into a heavy thatch of the tropical undergrowth.

The hunt is fairly easy, though if not for Helena's extraordinary abilities, I might have fallen victim to him as well. Thankfully an approaching storm helps cover us, it's flashing lightning echoing our pair of tazers that fell him like a tree. Gleefully turning the nutjob into a macramé project, Helena and I get him trussed up safely and hoisted into a spindly tree where he will be theoretically safe from the local bears and panthers. A loaded look between us speaks volumes about how we'd just love to leave him out for those predators. But we cannot and we know it.

So we call in to Oracle and have her mark our GPS signal where we've left him struggling against his bonds in the tree. All communication is fractured due to the black storm clouds rolling in off the Atlantic and we're in for a long, wet night. There will be no getting out of the swamp tonight.

"How do we end up in these situations?" Helena sighs dramatically as the rain begins to fall, drenching us in moments. All I can do is chuckle in sympathy and follow her back to Boa Vista. Clearly exhausted, the woman jumps, once again fumbling for her non-existent gun as we come to collect her.

"Tent, dinner, bed," I order imperiously and duck down to pull a muddy arm over my shoulders. "And I want to check you over. If the communication got through over this damn storm, word will get to your department that you're alive."

We don't carry tents per say, but large tarps and oversized hammocks. Frankly, the trees are far safer than the ground in a place like this, even with the lightning. It takes some time, darkness closing in, to find a perfect grove to camp out in. Not easily accessible to panthers, not tall enough to attracted the flickering lightning and sturdy enough for our combined weight.

Helena clambers into the clump of trees while I turn my attention to the shaking and soaked Natalia. "Strip," I instruct gently. "Let's get you cleaned off as best we can in this rain then you can dry off and get warm."

She's a gorgeous creature, even drenched and beat up from her ordeal. With a warning noise, Helena drops down a tiny bar of soap so that I can scrub Natalia's back in the pounding rain. Luckily, she appears to be in decent condition all things considered.

Still starkers, Natalia accepts Helena's help to get into the makeshift treehouse, standing wobbly on a limb to dry off before gratefully wolfing down a portion of MRE and crawling into my waiting sleeping bag. Then I can follow them up to towel off and climb into my warm spare clothes.

"Hopefully our stuff will dry," Helena remarks conversationally where she crouches under the protecting tarps. Clothes and shoes hang dripping on every available line.

"No chafing, eh?" I laugh and punch Helena affectionately in the shoulder. "I guess we have to double up tonight."

"Or keep the new girl company," she leers cartoonishly and makes me laugh again. This situation is a strange one, but we're together to take it on as it comes. After all, aren't we an indestructible force?

 

PART TWO

As the Everglades succumb to blackness, the unexpected chill answers the sleeping bag dilemma for us. Still fearful, Natalia jerks awake with a soft, alarmed sound, calming at the sight of my face barely lit by the glowstick hanging around my neck.

"Temp's down," I call over the storm. "We need to zip the bags together and share heat. You stay put and help me as best you can." My grin makes her smile faintly and look a little embarrassed. "Since you're commando and all."

"My knight in shining armor," Natalia snarks back and I laugh in real delight. It takes some effort, but we manage to get the two sleeping bags zipped into one big one and I gratefully climb into the insulated layers.

"Don't be up all night," I call out to my partner, who doesn't really acknowledge me except for that peculiar feeling I get sometimes that she's flicked an ear at me like an arrogant cat. "Pain in the ass." For that, Helena grins wickedly and tosses me the finger before hunkering down to stare into the night. Prying off my shoes, I carefully tie the laces together and drape them over the nearest tree branch to hopefully not get any wetter than they already are. "Scoot over, BoaVista."

It takes some maneuvering in the swaying hammock to get my body insinuated in the warm bags without jostling my strange companion too much. At one point, when my life was ordinary, her nakedness would have embarrassed me, but that was before the feline Huntress altered my life so drastically. A natural exhibitionist, she has left me with few if any taboos. We've been everything but lovers and even that boundary is blurry! Bet my partner won't be masturbating off the high from the hunt tonight. My eyes search for Helena's form in the flickering lightning and I remind myself to never underestimate her.

My wandering mind finally registers that Natalia is doing her damnest to not press into my taller, but more spare, frame. With a sigh, I snake an arm loosely around her neck. "Relax. I don't bite and we both need the heat."

For a moment she resists before softening and scooting in to press her back and rear and bare feet into my body. It's rather sweet that she cuddles my encircling arm, my hand curling over her ribs, her generous breast resting on my forearm. Pressing my nose into her thick hair, I do my best to let the day go and rest, secure that my partner is on guard.

"How did you find me?"

Just fading into sleep, the soft question jerks me back to consciousness. "Helena did. She's one of the metahumans you've been hearing so much about. Her senses are extraordinary and she's graceful as a cat."

"Just as indestructible too," Helena chimes in and I can clearly hear the amusement in her voice.

"And you?"

One has to admire the cop's ability to roll with the punches. Few have met the metas that have been living in secret just under the veneer of society. Even with their existence no longer a secret, they understandably shy away from the rest of us.

Being feared and shunned and even prosecuted will do that.

"No, not me. I'm originally a CSI from Las Vegas. Huntress here took a shine to me and I've been traveling with her ever since. We do freelance police-type work for whoever needs the help."

"I heard about that," Natalia muses. "We must be one of the few major cities that hasn't contracted your teams."

"Not exactly," Helena comments quietly, her voice close enough to almost ruffle the hair near my ear. Again, practice and familiarity keeps me from jumping, but not Natalia! "Sara, the storm is violent enough that I can't image any sane creature being out in it, not even a hungry panther."

For a moment I think it over, but it's a sound logic. "Okay. Did you get wet?"

"'Fraid so."

"Okay, strip and hang that stuff under the tarp, then get your butt in here to warm up."

Helena shuffles around in the intermittent light before gracefully managing to insinuate her lanky frame down my unoccupied side. Apparently, as the only clothed one, I get the coveted middle spot.

'Course, I'm also getting squashed, but oh well.

Jerking awake at the broken whisper near my ear, I look around blearily. It's eerily quiet, the jungle-forest around us a sea of shifting fog. Morning has chased away the darkness and I am still half smothered beneath my bedmates. At least I'm nice and toasty.

"Sara!"

It's faint, but I can hear it, finally realizing that it's the communicator embedded in my one remaining earring. Groaning, I shift urgently and my companions wake with twin starts. "Here, Oracle. We're all alive and well."

"Thank god. I've been calling for an hour!"

"Sorry boss," Helena yawns sheepishly. "We were really out."

Natalia's confusion makes me grin. "Am I hearing a voice?"

"Yes. That's the boss, Oracle. Oracle, have you heard from the Miami-Dade police yet?"

"Yes. That's one of the reasons I've been harassing you. They've sent out a swamp buggy to your general location."

"Is that what I'm hearing?" Helena muses and huddles against me for a moment before she's scrambling from the toasty bag.

"Ow! Hel!" The pummeling limbs have let me know several things; I'm stiff as hell, both of my arms are pretty much dead from heavy heads and I desperately need to pee. "Animal," I complain affectionately and move my left arm with a heavy groan. Natalia rolled over in the night, I suddenly notice, and is draped somewhat intimately over my entire body. That makes a fun contrast to the very naked Huntress perched nearly over my head, searching our surroundings. "Little more information than I need," I dryly tease my partner, who gamely sticks her tongue out at me but otherwise doesn't move for the moment. "You need to clean up that Brazilian," finally gets a fond glare and her slender body to shift away to a less indecent pose. "Stay here, Natalia."

Inchworming my way out of the scoop of the hammock and away from Natalia, I shiver in the cold and stiffly move to crouch beside my partner. "It's a vehicle of some sort," Helena murmurs quietly, leaning into me for warmth. Snaking out my arm, I grab whatever clothing my fingers encounter, not taking my eyes from where the faint sounds of civilization are coming from. Helena shrugs on what turns out to be BoaVista's jacket and slings the thin microfiber towel around her hips.

Just in time too as the singularly oddest looking vehicle I have ever laid eyes on rumbles out of the fog, not thirty feet to our northwest.

"Hel…"

It's too late, as my partner coils and springs away from the branch, leaving it vibrating, every inch the human feline, arcing though the air to land perfectly on the vehicle's hood with more weight than her skinny frame would suggest.

"Nice wheels," she drawls over the sounds of male shock and alarm. "Are you my ride? Gee I hope so."

"Uh, I'm Officer Swarez and this is Officer Tompson. Are you Huntress?"

Poor boy sounds so unsure that I can't let the cat tease her prey any longer. "Huntress, stop being a pain in the ass and show the nice officers of the peace where the perp is."

"Yes mom," she huffs like a flouncing teenager and I merely shake my head.

"She's a riot," Natalia comments, shifting to sit up while remaining snuggled in the bags.

"She's a pain in the ass. But I adore her anyway." My dry comments are echoed by a throaty, knowing chuckle in my earpiece. "You'll probably want to grit your teeth and get into those cold clothes so that we can be rescued."

With a deep, bracing breath, Natalia wiggles out of the bag and I find myself admiring her gorgeous, curvy body. With as much feminine teasing as I get, that side of the fence is starting to look real damn appealing. After all, my luck with men has been abysmal at best. When Natalia catches my frank gaze, she smiles tremulously while shrugging into a minimum of icy, damp clothes.

The perp is grunting softly to the chorus of the officer's low voices as Helena scales the tree like a lemur, the towel fluttering down into the creeping fog. Her lithe slenderness makes Natalia seem voluptuous by comparison.

Despite the dangerous awkwardness of dressing in a tree, we manage to do that and start breaking down our makeshift camp before the cops arrive. "Glad to see you guys," I call down to them, reassured by their uniforms, smiles and the bastard we caught twitching impotently in the bed of the modified pickup. Hel drops down again and I toss down our things before bracing the rope for Natalia to shimmy down. It's not far to the truck chassis, despite the ground being significantly further down. Once on the vehicle, I can't help but lean over the side to look curiously at the spindly-looking open superstructure that holds us far above the chassis and comically huge wheels.

"What is this thing?"

"It's a swamp buggy," explains the darker of the two officers. "A necessity in this terrain. Keeps us well above most hazards and provides a visual advantage."

"Oh, stop your moaning," Helena taunts the perp, leaning over the backseat to actually poke him. "After terrorizing the nice lady, a cold night hanging is a tree is the least I would have liked to do to you."

A touch of Natalia's hand on the bare small of her back where the black shirt has rucked up turns Helena's attention. "I don't think I thanked you two," the Miami cop CSI says somberly and Hel smiles softly. "So, really, thank you. I was at my last straw and couldn't see a way out. Two days in this godforsaken swamp with that lunatic on my ass, I thought was the end of me."

Helena never knows how to react to these sorts of intimacies with strangers and usually looks to me or Oracle for guidance. But, she surprises me when she merely nods and replies softly, "You're welcome, Natalia."

Then, she flops down close enough to me to nearly be in my lap and I affectionately wrap my arm around her neck in a loose cuddle.

"Nice work, girls," Oracle says softly so that only we can hear.


End file.
